We Are What We Weave
by Kaz1167
Summary: A collection of drabbles and one-shots focused on Mako and Korra's relationship in its many different forms. The "chapters" will not be consecutive in anyway nor will they be following an over-arching plot. Some chapters will be M, but most will be either K or T.
1. Masquerade (Makorra Week 2013 Day 1)

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.

Rated M for brief sexual content and language.

* * *

Korra watches as Mako pulls the lovely heiress into his embrace, the happy lilt of the song accompanied by their laughter. They are celebrating the miraculous rebound of Future Industries; the company once again becoming a successful enterprise with Asami Sato at its head. Asami deserved to revel in her achievement, particularly after everything she had been through in the past year, but Korra couldn't quite bring herself to enjoy the moment with her friends.

According to Bolin, they weren't officially a thing.

They hadn't told her, but a part of her had known. She'd seen it in the way she looked at him, the way they smiled at one another, like they'd successfully hidden their damn secret so well. She'd barely spent any time with them, but it was enough. Every time she saw them together, saw that smile cross his face, saw that glimmer in her green eyes, she felt frozen and numb, a half-empty feeling in her chest that made each breath feel labored.

They had every right to be with each other, but knowing that fact doesn't stop her stomach from turning each time she thinks of him wrapped in someone else's arms. She hates the bitterness she feels at the sight of them, but no matter how much distance she puts between herself and the fire bender, she can't get away.

Bolin drags her over to where the couple stands, his hand tugging against her wrist as they meet on the dance floor. She wonders if the tension she feels is as apparent and awful to them as it is to her, but Bolin lightheartedly asks Asami for the next dance and she accepts. As the music begins and the new partners move away, cold seeps through her body as her eyes meet gold momentarily.

"Korra—" he starts, but she turns and walks away, leaving him stranded on the filling floor. She's not ready for this, not to see them before her, not for the half-hearted apologies that will inevitably come from him and will turn her blood to ice as her heart pounds aggressively in her chest.

She leaves the club through the back entrance, the energetic jazz music unpleasant in her ears as she walks out onto the cold, dark, street.

"You're being ridiculous, Korra!" His voice stops her and she turns swiftly to face him. She feels the rush of adrenaline running through her veins, leaving an icy chill in its wake, and she can't help herself as she spits her venomous response.

"I'm being ridiculous? Ha! That's hilarious, coming from you!" His amber eyes widen, like she's slapped him.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? You broke up with me, Korra! What did you expect me to do?" He stalks toward her, his hands flailing in exasperation as he hits his last question.

"I don't know, but I didn't expect you to run back to your ex-girlfriend, you know, the one you left to be with me." She doesn't care if she's crossing a line as she says it; she knows it has always been more complicated than that between the three of them, knows she has no right to be this angry with them for going back to one another, but it doesn't stop her.

"You know it isn't as simple as that Korra—"

"Then what is it, Mako?!"

"It's a distraction! Being with her helps keep my mind off of everything else, keeps my mind off of you! So forgive me for not having your will-power or whatever it is, but I can't do it otherwise." His voice rings out in the alley, echoing quietly off of the cool brick buildings trapping them on both sides. He closes the remaining distance between them, stopping just short of her, and she feels the resolve she had found in her anger crack.

"Asami—"

"Asami knows, Korra. She knows what this is, and we both know we didn't work, but this is just easy, for both of us, for now." He runs his gloved hand through his hair once, frustration and exhaustion apparent in the gesture, like he's too tired to continue breathing, let alone explain the reasoning behind his actions. For the first time, she notices how his eyes, usually so reflective and engaging, seem dull, the light purple circles under his eyes further dampening their glow. The anger goading her dies out as quickly as it came and she sighs, the foot of space between them feeling simultaneously like too much and not enough.

"But that's what you want, right? And we weren't ever…easy."

"No, it's not… it's just that…right now, easy works."

She gulps in the cold air, feels it burn her throat and lungs, as it hits her; a reality she has refused to accept crashing down around her.

"We're never going to work, are we?"

"Korra…"

She has nothing to lose, so she closes the space between them and presses her lips hard against his. She doesn't care if she's being selfish, she just knows she can't let go of him, let go of what they had, just yet. He pulls her against him and an aching desperation she's never felt before seeps into her with the brush of his tongue against her lips, the gentle warmth of his hand on her neck. He breaks first, rests his forehead on hers before he speaks.

"One more time. Please, just…" The puff of air on her lips leaves a tingling sensation in its wake and she finds herself nodding, allowing him to lead her to the police-issued satomobile he'd taken here from work.

They rush, pulling at their clothes, hastily pushing everything aside. His mouth is on hers once more and she hesitates to close her eyes, not daring to shut out the image of him above her. Her fingers run through his hair, down the side of his jaw, over his shoulders; each inch something to be memorized.

"Don't stop," she whispers as he kisses down her neck, his hands sliding over her bare arms

Tomorrow, she would put on a smile when she saw them and force her voice to say nice things, try to make the words sound less hollow. Tomorrow would be the start of "easy" for all of them, no more tension belaboring their relationships, no more questioning where everyone stands. She would make things easy for everyone and restore balance to their little circle of friends, even if it meant permanently wearing a mask around the people she loves.

No more second guessing if they have a future, if maybe they could work, if what they had was more than just a one-time, failed relationship. Tonight will be the last time; this is how they will end.

She steals this moment for herself, keeps it frozen in her memory. Amidst the pleasure, the warm touches, the gasping breaths, she aches more than she ever has before, a pain more real and more torturous than any physical pain she's felt wretches through her as she comes around him. Her name breaks from his lips quickly after, the way his voice wraps around each letter, each syllable something she grasps at, something she'll replay in her memory every day until it no longer hurts to hear.


	2. Lyrical (Makorra Week 2013 Day 2)

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.

Rated K+.

* * *

He always wakes up before her

When he does, he relishes in these moments of contentment, in which he can pretend their lives are simpler. He strips away the constant pressures of her position as the Avatar, the demands of his job, and the peering public eye that insists on documenting their every up and down as a couple. Most of all, he pretends this won't be the last time he awakes to her presence for the next two months. The world demands its Avatar; it cares little for _his_ need for Korra.

Some mornings, he only has seconds before she stirs—an instant to try to memorize the woman beside him before starting the day—but on mornings like this, he knows she'll sleep for at least a few minutes more and he drinks in her warmth. He clings to the way her mused hair slightly tickles the places where it meets his ribs, the gentle swell of her chest, and the slight sounds that escape her mouth with each breath. He convinces himself that this image of her will last him until she returns home, barging into their small apartment and blissfully disrupting the unwanted silence he has learned to live with during her absence.

Today, he awakes intoxicated by the scent of her hair sprawled across his pillow, the glow of her skin as the tendrils of light sneak into the room and caress her.

He traces characters across her skin, scraps of the lyrical lines of songs his mother used to sing to him invisibly etched upon her arm, her chest, her stomach.

She stirs when his hand slides back up the curve of her waist, his fingers ghosting over a spot he knows to be ticklish, and she turns to lie on her back.

"'Morning," she murmurs, her voice heavy with sleep, but still rich and warm.

It is in these moments, when she's smiling tiredly up at him, her blue eyes shimmering in the morning sun as she snuggles closer to him, that he remembers he doesn't need to pretend things are simpler. She is his, just as he is hers, and regardless of the world's interference—whether it's pulling her away for a few months or demanding he work double shifts at the station—they will always return to this small apartment, to this bed, to the warmth of one another.

He brushes the pad of his thumb across her check, her skin soft against his fingers, before leaning down to lightly place a kiss on her forehead, her cheek, and finally, her lips.

"Good Morning."


	3. Winter (Makorra Week 2013 Day 3)

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.

Rated K. Warning: Character death (Katara)

* * *

There's a chill in the air as he enters the apartment soundlessly. Her boots, discarded haphazardly by the door, are slowly drowning in a slushy gray puddle of their own making, staining the wood floor beneath them. He sighs lightly as he removes his own boots, carefully placing them upright next to her saddened pair, before crossing into their small kitchen to look for something to wipe up the mess. As he absentmindedly opens cupboards and cabinets, he glances across the floor and into the dimly lit room, quietly assessing today's atmosphere. He recognizes the form under their sheets, curled up tightly, and an empty, plummeting feeling pulls at his chest.

If she hears him enter, she gives no indication. He tugs off his stiff uniform jacket and heavy pants, letting them crumple on the floor, as he slides under their comforter and pulls her back against him. Despite the weight of their blankets, her skin feels cold under his fingers, his hands running softly up and down her arm. He places gentle kisses against the back of her neck and shoulders, silently waiting for her.

"I had to meet with Tenzin at the Air Temple today." Her voice is tired and gravely, a voice he only hears when she's trying to hide the fact she's been crying. "Everything is in place for tomorrow. Kya just got here today and Zuko's supposed to arrive tonight, but everyone should be here in time for…"

She trials off and he places another light kiss on her shoulder.

"Even though I know I've lost my connection to Aang, whenever I was with Katara, it still felt like he was… there sometimes. Out of reach, but there nonetheless. And when I heard Katara had… when Tenzin finally told me, I felt so empty. And now they're both gone and all I feel is cold. No matter what I do, I can't shake it and I don't know how to get warm again, and I just don't know…"

Her voice breaks, and he feels the sob she's choking down shake through her body. Her hands are cool when he reaches for them, drawing simple patterns on her icy skin with his thumbs, before interlacing his fingers with hers. The words that come to mind sound silly and meaningless in his head; none of them can convey what he wants to say, but he whispers them against her hair anyways.

"I'm sorry you're cold. I'm sorry, and I love you." His voice is low and shaky, but she lets go of his hands and turns over to face him, her head pressed against his chest. She's quiet when she cries like this, like she can't stand for him to hear her or see her face when she's weak. He doesn't say anything when little spots on his battered white tank become wet against his skin, but his arms tighten around her.

"I love you." He kisses the top of her head.

"I love you." Another kiss and he pulls her closer, her hands clutching at his shirt. His hand brushes through her hair like the gentle caress of a mid-summer breeze, the radiating warmth from his chest like the lingering heat that clings to pavement at the end of the day. A comfortable quiet settles between them and he feels the slightest bit of relief when he realizes she's falling asleep, having witnessed her restless, sleepless nights since learning of Katara's passing.

"I feel a little warmer now." He feels her inhale and exhale deeply in his arms, the breath of her words steady and soft against his chest.

"I'm glad."

"Thanks." He lightly nods against the top of her head and he hears her whisper an "I love you" before she quiets completely. He continues to rub her back, her skin finally warm under his hands, until her rhythmic breathing lulls him to sleep.

She stays in his arms the rest of the night.


	4. Holiday (Makorra Week 2013 Day 4)

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.

Rated K. Fluff! Yay!

* * *

The box feels heavy in his hand, the shiny packaging hard on his eyes.

This was a stupid idea. He should have waited until they were completely alone, should have picked a different day, maybe even waited a little longer to make sure it was absolutely perfect, but every glance between them, every little smile she sends his way, confirms that he doesn't want to wait any longer.

Mako leans against the door frame and watches as his brother tears through the packaging on his gift, enthusiastically throwing out guesses as to what it might be up until the second he lays eyes on the actual present. He laughs as Bolin throws himself across the floor to hug the grinning Avatar, pulling her into a tight embrace before releasing her and turning to muster up his own gift for the ebony haired heiress sitting beside her. Korra catches Mako's eye and smiles again before standing and crossing over to him.

"What are you doing over here?" She pulls his empty hand into her own, their fingers interlacing like it's second nature. She glances down at the shimmering silver package in his hand and he feels a slight blush spread across his face. Two years of dating, one year of living together; it's strange to think that this gift is the culmination of only a few "real" dates, too many fights, and countless nights spent together, but it makes him smile.

"I just had to get something from my room." He lifts the little box, before she lets go of his hand, one hand reaching out for the gift, the other moving to her hip. His eyebrows quirk up and he plants a joking smirk across his face, hoping it masks his nerves. "What makes you so sure it's for you?"

"Well that _is_ my name written on the tag." He rolls his eyes and hands her the package. As she pulls the paper apart, he scans the room, thankful that Bolin and Asami are preoccupied playing with Pabu. His eyes flash back to her as the paper falls to the floor and she takes the lid off of the little box. His heart is pounding and his hands feel sweaty. He definitely should have waited until they were alone.

"Mako…this is…" Her eyes are wide as she picks up the necklace and allows the box to fall to the floor. Her thumb rubs over the cool stone in her palm, the red fabric band dangling over her hand. He looks down at the silvery stone, the water element insignia shallowly carved into the circular surface, and immediately feels the need to fill the silence between them as she stares at the necklace, her mouth hanging open.

"Uh, the stone is from the Eastern Air Temple. Tenzin gave it to me and Bolin helped me shape it. And, um, that's the water symbol, because you're from the water tribe…" He swallows nervously as she runs the red fabric through her fingers.

"Is this from…" Her eyes dart from the strip of fabric to his neck and a blush rises to his already warm face.

"Oh, I…" His hands move to fiddle with the scarf around his neck before he pulls an end out, the little stitches barely visible. He's suddenly a bit self-conscious of his ability to sew so well and he's sure his face is as red as his scarf. "Well, it was from the fire nation and it was my mother's before she gave it to my dad and just…I wanted to give a part of it you."

A smile breaks across her face and he feels relief and the inklings of joy rushing through him.

"So all four elements are represented." Her eyes meet his and he sees his answer. He nods and smiles brightly. He reaches for the necklace and she turns in front of him, pulling her hair up. His hands shake as he ties the knot behind her neck and he kisses the skin just above the knot when he finishes.

"You realize you could have just asked me to marry you, right? You didn't have to go through all this trouble. But it's beautiful, thank you." She drops her hair and turns, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Well, you _are_ the Avatar. And I've always been a bit of an idiot when it comes to you." His hands find her waist and he pulls her flush against him.

"Both are true." The teasing tone in her voice makes him want to kiss her, so he draws back slightly before surging forward. He kisses her full on the mouth, unable to stop himself, despite the set of matching green eyes he feels watching them. His lips leave hers and he pulls her further into his arms, smiling against her hair, thoughts of forever with her dancing in his head.


	5. Reminisce (Makorra Week 2013 Day 5)

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.

Rated K. Back to the angst!

* * *

Years of separation stand between them; countless weeks without the sound of her voice, too many moments marked by half-hearted hugs and tepid smiles.

_It's over. For real, this time._

They never really recovered.

Sometimes, the urge to see her is no more than a whisper in the back of his mind. He survives the day, feeling fine, with only the tiniest trace of emptiness to remind him of what he has lost.

_I really like you and I think we're meant to be together._

Some days he awakes to an ache in his chest; its cause known, as he clings to a fragment of a dream in which they never parted. He spends those days trapped in a fog, rehashing each warm-hearted word or gentle touch or loving glance shared between them.

They've kept in touch, just barely. He keeps her at an arm's length, soundlessly celebrating her victories and mourning her losses each step along the way, but when they speak with one another, he pretends each announcement is brand new to him.

_I'll always love you._

If she bothered to clear the thin smoke screen between them, she'd find him tending a weary, flickering flame for her, but she always follows the trail of smoke as the wind carries it away from him, never looking for its source.

On the day he hears she has accepted another man's proposal, memories rush through him, clattering against his skull, beating against his chest, and, by the time he gets home from work, he feels broken and bruised.

_You never cease to amaze me. _

He never stops loving her, secretly, as he watches her from afar.


	6. Spirits (Makorra Week 2013 Day 6)

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.

Rated T for flirtatiousness, drinking, and language. Fluffy sexual tension? Is that a thing? I'm making it thing.

* * *

The tequila burns her throat as she swallows the shot and grimaces.

Agreeing to see her ex was the first in a string of bad ideas. She knows getting dinner is a stupid idea. She knows going to a bar is a horrible idea. She definitely knows doing shots with Mako is a terrible, awful, _remarkably_ _dumb_ idea.

That is, until she's three shots in and starts to forget why she thought this was such a bad idea in the first place.

He swallows another shot before he pushes back the hair framing her face with both hands, her skin tingling from the touch, and lets his hands cup her cheeks, his fingers threading through her hair. She thinks this type of touching might be crossing a "friend" line but the thought drifts away as quickly as it had come.

"You know, I think about you a lot." He's staring at her, his eyes slightly glazed but still glowing, like a fire trapped behind ice. She pulls a gulping breath in, letting it fill her chest, as she tries to stop the dizziness flooding her head, unsure if its cause is his words or the alcohol.

"I think about you too. All the time." The words feel heavy on her tongue, like she wasn't supposed to say them.

"I miss kissing you. And I miss holding you." His face is flushed and she's pretty sure he's closer to her than when they first started this silly bet on who could outdrink the other. Her heart is pounding and she feels each pulse in every part of her body. It eggs her on, emboldens her, pushing the liquid heat further through her.

"I miss touching you." Her tongue slides out to coat her parched lips, the lingering taste of tequila spreading through her mouth once more. His eyes flicker down to her mouth and she watches the way his lips part slightly, the way his Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, the way his chest expands with his shaky breath.

"Fuck, Korra." His eyes lock with hers and her hands play with the ends of his scarf.

"I miss that, too." She doesn't remember if she pulled him down to her mouth or if he pushed toward her, but his lips find hers, their drunken, sloppy kiss heating her from her lips to her toes.

Someone suggests they go back to his apartment and she's certain it's the best idea of the night.


	7. Light (Makorra Week 2013 Day 7)

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) for Makorra Week 2013.

Rated K+. Fluff/Angst. Back to a one-shot length rather than drabble. Woo!

* * *

She's restless. She glances around the renovated attic above the pro-bending arena, its windowed walls placing them strangely in the center of the storm. A black sky and dark clouds enshroud the city, rain viciously smattering against the glass, the usually peaceful waters crashing violently below them. It's beautiful and unsettling, and she feels the electricity of the storm, its power and urgency, rushing through her own veins.

The original plan for the day had been to explore the fringe of the city with the brothers—there were still so many places she hadn't been yet—but as soon as she reached the arena (and subsequently Bolin's new apartment), the sky had opened up and unleashed its torrent on the city. They had spent the day discussing pro-bending strategies Bolin could use when coaching his new team and arguing over which moves would be the most effective against different players. Now, more than four hours later, here she is, trapped inside, as the brothers banter about some silly ad playing on the radio.

"Guys, this is ridiculous, we've been cooped up in here all day. We've got to do something or I'll go crazy," she says, standing up from her place on the sofa, stretching her arms and back. Bolin laughs as he glances at the clock on the wall, animatedly stands up, and reaches for his coat.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you, but _I_ have a fan meeting to get to. The ladies do love Bolin after all," he laughs as he pulls on his coat, Pabu scampering to his place on Bolin's shoulder.

"You're still going even though it's a mess outside? What if no one shows up?" Mako says from his outstretched position on the floor, ever the more practical of the two.

"Oh trust me bro, they'll be there." Bolin smiles and winks at his brother, as he turns for the door. "See you later, Korra. I'm sure you guys will find some way to make the most of my absence. Just stay away from my bed!"

"Bolin!"

The door slams shut, just as the pro-bending playbook Mako had been using as a headrest smacks against it. Bolin's laughter, still audible through the thin walls as he makes his way down the hall, sends a slight flush to Korra's cheeks. Mako's face shifts to a nice shade of tomato red, undoubtedly at the thought of the event in reference.

It had been a few months since their break-up when it happened. Her meeting with President Raiko had finished earlier than expected and, having nothing else to do, she decided to drop by Mako's apartment and see if he and Bolin would be up for doing anything that night.

Maybe it was because it was their first time alone or because Korra's self-control was still minimal at best (she blames it on the fact that he'd answered the door shirtless), but somehow, she found herself pressed into the sofa cushions, under the warmth of his weight. Mako was poised above Korra, their bodies already covered in a sheer sheen of sweat from the pleasurable lead up to this moment, when Bolin burst into the apartment, bag of dumplings in hand, Pabu scurrying about the floor beside him. There was no disguising what Bolin had just nearly witnessed as Mako scrambled to conceal an essentially naked Korra beneath him.

Two weeks later, neither had addressed the "almost friends-with-benefits" situation, but Bolin certainly enjoyed mentioning it whenever he wanted to throw an awkward wrench into the conversation.

Korra glances down at the man lying on the floor. Mako presses his hand to his temple before swinging himself up and resting his back against the foot of the couch, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips.

"Why does he always have to bring that up? It was _one_ time and it isn't like we wanted him to walk in on us. And besides, I've already apologized to him. You think he could just let it go."

Korra laughs as she plops back down onto the sofa, her head close to his as she stretches across the length of the soft, umber cushions. Glancing at his already flushed face, she can't help but wonder if anything would be different between them now had Bolin walked in even fifteen minutes later, a warm, untested feeling settling in her chest. A bolt of lightning illuminates the room, followed seconds later by a rolling thunderous boom, snapping her out of her thoughts before he has the time to question her silence.

"Well, it's Bolin. At least he didn't tell anyone else. That would be…"

"Uncomfortable, to say the least." He glances sideways and his gaze locks with hers momentarily, the glow in his eyes gently prodding, silently posing too many questions at once.

_Should we talk about what happened? What almost happened? Where does that leave us? What are we?_

She pulls her gaze away, clears her throat, and watches the rain hitting the windows. These are questions for another day; questions she doesn't quite have answers to yet. A strained silence falls between them, only the harsh beating of water against glass filling the room.

She's about to stand and say something about heading back to Air Temple Island, just to escape the tension between them, when another bolt flashes through the room and the lights in the apartment flicker before covering them in darkness. She hears him sigh heavily beside her and she tilts her head toward the sound, the feeling of identifying him in the dark strangely comforting.

It's silly for the two of them to be sitting in the dark—creating and holding an illuminating flame is something they are both completely capable of doing—yet neither attempts to enlighten the room with their own singular, flickering light.

Her eyes adjust to the darkness and as she roles onto her side to prop her head up on her hand, she sees him shift from his spot on the ground. He turns to face her, one arm casually thrown across the sofa cushion, and her eyes lock on his golden ones, their glow like sunlight, heating her through and through.

Even in the dark she can make out his every feature: the strong, narrow slope of his nose; the sharp, pointed black eyebrows; the slightly parted, barely chapped lips she remembers too well. The cool air of his breath grazes her cheek, sending the slightest chill down her neck, and she wishes for his hands and lips to warm the cooled skin.

The centimeters between them shrink as he slowly, tentatively, leans in, her eyes never leaving his. Her body just barely tilts forward, but it brings her close enough to feel his breath on her lips, to inhale the sharp scent that is so purely_ him_, to just barely remember the exact sensation of his mouth upon hers. Her eyes drift to a close, but the second they shut, the second she _thinks_ a feather-light pressure grazes her lips, the room fills with the humming of electricity, dismissing the darkness behind her eyelids and exposing the private moment.

She pulls back, eyes wide, and scrambles to sit upright. He flounders from his position on the floor, eyes staring straight ahead, hands rigid at his sides, the hint of a blush dusting his cheeks. She's sure her own face is a shade darker as she stands and clears her throat.

"I should probably head back to the Air Temple. You know, because it's raining and… stuff." Her voice is too loud in the room and the words sound forced and hollow, but he adamantly nods his head in agreement, still staring at the wall across from him.

"Sounds good. Do you need me to see you out or—"

"I'm fine, no need to get up!" She crosses to the door, her gait strong and brazen. All she needs to do is open the door and she'll be free from the impending questions, free from needing to understand why she still loves him, free from the molten gaze that makes her ache at night…

Her hand stills on the knob and she glances back at him once more, her eyes tracing over him, looking disheveled and just as confused as she feels. Her heart thumps traitorously in her chest and she swallows hard, a surge of "what-ifs" running through her head. But she saves those "what-ifs" for another day and sighs heavily as she pulls the door open.

"Night, Mako."

"Goodnight, Korra."

It's better if they leave the idea of "them" in the dark for one more day.


	8. His Day Off

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) in response to this prompt: "makorra, the number 6, and sudoku!"

Rated T. Implied Sexual Content.

* * *

He is sitting up in bed, yesterday's newspaper in hand, as the morning sun filters in through the open windows of his bedroom. Today is his day off and he is resolved to laze about as he pleases for the entirety of this rare, free day. He folds the flimsy page containing yesterday's sudoku into a tight square that frames the awaiting game perfectly. He never used to be into these puzzles, but after facing a few too many unsolvable cases as a detective, he has come to appreciate the promise of a solution, a complete game.

He is about four steps into this particular puzzle, having nearly completed a square and a horizontal row, when the woman asleep beside him stirs. His concentration breaks momentarily as she rolls onto her back, the thin sheets slipping off of her exposed shoulder, and he is entranced by the way the light dances across her skin. His focus lost, the sudden urge to touch her strikes him, and he trails the eraser of his pencil across her collarbone, her shoulder, the side of her arm. A slight smile and light, easy laugh escape him as she groans, the last vestiges of sleep fleeing her, her blue eyes blearily looking up at him.

"And your reason for waking me up is…"

"Just wanted your lovely company," he says, a smirk pulling at the side of his far too innocent smile. She rolls her eyes at him, before pulling the covers up over her head, and her muffled voice barely reaches his ears. Minutes pass and he returns to his puzzle, convinced she has fallen asleep once again, before she turns on her side to face him, silently watching him as he fills in another small square. He is used to her watching him work through a sudoku or crossword, but it is clear she is only looking at_ him_ this time around.

"Korra, are you just going to stare at me?"

"I like watching you solve the game."

"You can't even see it."

"Watching your face is more interesting. So serious over a little square full of numbers." She slides up to sit beside him, curling into the warmth of his bare arm, as she pulls her legs up into her chest. He appreciates the feeling of her next to him, the side of her arm against his own, and he continues to place the next missing number into his set.

A new warmth presses softly against his shoulder and he doesn't have to look at her to recognize the touch of her lips against his skin. She shifts beside him once more and her lips find the junction of his neck before moving to the sensitive spot below his jaw, followed by the shell of his ear. Each gentle sensation stays on his skin for a few fleeting seconds after she pulls away; the mild warmth emanating from each spot spreads through the rest of him. Her lips return to his favorite spot, just below his jaw, but this time her lips press a little harder, linger a little longer, her mouth lightly pulling on the sensitive skin as her lips leave him. His grip on the newspaper square slackens, his eyes drift to a close, and he fights down the small groan that wants to escape his chest.

He hears her satisfied little laugh and can practically feel her smirk against his skin, but he enjoys the breathy gasp that slips from her tantalizing mouth when the paper and pencil fall from his hands and he pulls her to him before rolling over and trapping her beneath him.

"I thought you liked watching me." He allows the weight of his lower body to press against her and he delights in watching her squirm in response.

"I do," she says, as her hands slide down his sides, her nails grazing his back, before she settles her grip upon his hips, "but I like this more."

Her sixth kiss is upon his mouth, her head lifting to meet his (she's never been one to wait for a kiss), and he relishes the way she consumes him with such a simple action.

They disappear into the comfort of each other, tangled in the cool sheets of his bed, and only emerge when her stomach loudly pleads for food.

Today was his day off and he spent it exactly the way he wanted.


	9. Maybe One Day

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) in response to this prompt: "mako and korra talk about having kids!"

Rated K+. A little angsty, but harmless enough. :)

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"Do you want to have kids, Korra?"

The room is dark, the night quiet, but there it is, the question she has been dancing around for months. She knew the conversation would have to happen at some point, but she had kept waltzing delicately around the topic, diverting his attention to _other _things with hot kisses or heavy-handed touches whenever the topic crept into conversation.

She had seen the way he looked at Rohan, the way his eyes lit up when Rohan giggled at the silly faces Mako made or fell asleep in his arms; she had tallied up every time Mako offered to hold him for Pema, almost looking for an excuse to hold the small boy close to his chest, her own anxiety painfully thrumming through her veins, constantly conflicted between awe and love for the man before her and her own desires. How could she rip away something he so clearly wanted? What if he didn't want her if it meant he would never look into his own child's eyes, never hold his own son or daughter close? She knew her tactics would only work for so long, but it was easier to simply stay silent, if it bought her more time with him.

She swallows the lump in her throat, her hands cold, and turns in his bed to press her palms against his chest, tracing over the taught skin she knows so well. His hand moves to pull her closer, rubbing light lines up and down her back, and she aches at the sweetness of the gesture.

"I would give you almost anything if it would make you happy. But right now, when I think about what I want for my life, what I envision for myself as the Avatar, as a woman… I don't see kids of my own in my future. That's not to say it won't change; maybe one day I'll wake up and decide that having a family is right for me, that I want to be a mother and am ready for that part of my life. But I can't promise that day will ever come, either."

His hand stills on her back and she can feel her pulse rushing. She doesn't want to hear the hurt in his voice, doesn't want him to leave, and his second of silence terrifies her more than she wants to admit.

"Okay, Korra."

"What?"

He pushes back slightly, sliding his hand over her back and arm, before tilting her head up to meet his eyes and taking her hand in his.

"I'm not going to lie and say that part of me doesn't want a family, but I love you, Korra. I want to be with _you_, no matter what. If you wake up and want to be a mother, we'll make that happen. But if you never want to have kids, then we just won't have kids. That will never change how much I love you."

He lets go of her hand to push the hair off of her face, shifts slightly to kiss her lips, and pulls her firmly into his arms. She whispers an "I love you" softly against his skin, he kisses the top of her head, and she thanks every spirit she can for putting this man in her life and for putting her in his arms, before she falls into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in his embrace.


	10. Unsteady

Previously posted on my tumblr (elementalavatars) in response to this prompt: "Mako and Korra going on an ice skating date together 3"

Rated K+. Fluff. :)

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His hands are freezing, his breath coming out in wisps of air, and he can't remember what compelled him to suggest ice skating in the face of their Friday-night boredom. He hates the unsteady slickness under his feet, his own ineptitude threatening to upend him, and finds himself inclined to sit off to the side, watching as enthusiastic children skitter across the ice with slippery steps and Republic City's more graceful citizens glide with ease.

He mindlessly pulls the laces of his borrowed skates tight, dread filling his stomach at the knowledge he's _thisclose_ to making a fool of himself as he slips across the frozen surface (not to mention the uncomfortable bruises in places usually unharmed he'll be taking home with him after tonight).

"Ready, Mako?" Her voice pulls him from his haze like a comforting flame drawing him forward, urging him to_ try_, even if he fails miserably, just to make her lips twitch into that smile, that smirk.

"I don't really know how to skate." She takes his hands in hers, pulling him up, and her gloved fingers hold his tightly. He wobbles, uncomfortable on the thin blades beneath him, grasping at her elbows, seeking her stability.

"I guess I'll just have to teach you." Her eyes flash, _that _smile breaks across her lips, and the floating, fluttering feeling in his chest makes all of the inevitable slips and falls ahead of him worthwhile.


End file.
